


Continuing Education

by LovelyZelda



Category: Star Trek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-02
Updated: 2010-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-09 06:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyZelda/pseuds/LovelyZelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/st_tos_kink/485.html?thread=335333#t335333">Spock/McCoy I need more virgin!Spock.</a></p><p>Since Kirk is a very...physical being, Spock wants to get physical.  Obviously the logical thing to do is ask McCoy to teach him how to have sex with humans.  Spock/McCoy, Kirk/Spock, Kirk/Spock/McCoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Continuing Education

"Doctor, I require your assistance."

McCoy looked up from his computer screen. "Is it an emergency?"

"No."

"Is this a medical matter?"

"It is not."

"Then go away. I'm busy."

Spock didn't move. McCoy sighed. "All right, what's wrong with Jim?"

"The captain is a very physical creature."

"That's putting it politely," McCoy muttered. "When he goes for the shoulders, just take a step back."

"I did not say I wished to discourage him."

"Then why do you need my help?"

Spock raised an eyebrow and gave him the look that was a combination of "how stupid are you?" and "please don't make me say it." "I value the captain's companionship."

_How stupid of me to forget I went to medical school just so I'd be able to reassure lovesick Vulcans._ "Spock, Jim doesn't care about that. He finds someone or something on almost every planet." He watched the Vulcan carefully as he asked, "You do know he's probably going to keep doing that no matter how physical you get?"

"I am quite familiar with the captain's behavior patterns."

"I thought you were only interested in that sort of thing during...that time." It was the first time McCoy'd mentioned it since it'd happened, and he assumed Jim and Spock had been as vague in their reports as he had. (And he desperately hoped it wouldn't mean someone's life, but he felt it wasn't his secret to tell. Hell, he hadn't even been told.)

"A common misconception, doctor," said Spock.

"Common? I don't see how it can be very god damned common when you wouldn't even tell the people who'd do anything to save that miserable hide of yours!"

Spock almost seemed to hesitate before saying, "Vulcans are capable of certain activities at any time. We are simply more discreet than your species."

"Then I wouldn't worry about it," said McCoy. "Even by human standards, Jim isn't known for his 'discretion'."

God only knew why Spock thought this would be more logical than actually talking to Jim.

"Doctor, if you are unwilling to help me, it would take less time if you just said so."

"I'm willing, Spock. I don't understand it, but I'm willing. Jim adores you, you stupid Vulcan, and he's practically part Orion. You tell him you want to get physical because it'll make him happy..." McCoy grinned. "He'll have his pants off before you can even finish your sentence."

"The captain removing his clothing proves very little."

McCoy sighed. "Just come to my quarters at the end of this shift. I'll show you the filmstrip and give you a few pointers."

"Filmstrip?"

"Never mind. Just let me actually get some damn work done," said McCoy.

"Doctor, I assumed your position required little more than loitering on the bridge and prescribing courses of leeches."

"Well, you poisoned all my leeches with that copper-based blood of yours," said McCoy. "So unless you want a good old fashioned bloodletting, I suggest you leave me in peace so I can order more."

***

"While I am sure you have a number of what I believe are called 'locker room anecdotes', I am interested in practice, not theory."

McCoy stared at him. Given the infinite number of infinite universes, it was comforting to think that there had to be at least one where his friends didn't ask him how to have sex with each other.

"I could obtain all the relevent biological and anatomical knowledge from the ship's computer," said Spock. "I assume you would like to remind me that the ship's computer cannot feel?"

"I'm a doctor, not a programmer." He looked at Spock, trying to see if the Vulcan had suddenly learned how to pull a prank. "Spock, are you saying you want me?"

Spock knew the expression well enough to look almost mildly startled. "I would prefer to think of it as an exchange of ideas and information."

"Mr. Spock, you are worse than robotic," said McCoy as he opened the cupboard where he kept the liquor. "You could program a robot to be charming."

"Are you a programmer now?"

Out of habit, McCoy brought two glasses to the table and filled both. He offered one to Spock.

"Is this a standard part of human courtship?"

"Sometimes." McCoy didn't know how in the hell he could forget that Spock didn't drink, but it certainly wasn't because he was flustered. "In this case it's a requirement." He knocked back the extra drink and set the glass on the table. "Besides, it'll make you look prettier."

"Another fine example of human charm," said Spock. He titled his head the way he always did before he asked an "I'm confused because nobody on Pike's _Enterprise_ talked to me" question. "How will your consumption of alcohol affect my appearance?"

Over fifteen years of working with humans, and no one had ever bothered to tell him about beer goggles. Not that Spock actually needed to know, but if he'd known Jim and McCoy in their younger days, he would've found out.

(Although Jim never mentioned bringing home anyone ugly. He usually said something like, "Bones, what's the worst thing you could catch from an Andorian?"

And McCoy usually said something like, "Not the ambassador's daughter, Jim," and Jim gave him that "I fucked her and what are you doing later?" smile. And McCoy counted the days until he'd never have to see James Kirk again.)

McCoy sat down and picked up the other drink. "Make yourself comfortable, Spock."

"I am quite comfortable where I am."

"Then make me comfortable." McCoy pushed the other chair out with his foot and was surprised when Spock actually sat down instead of arguing about it.

"When should I remove my clothes?" asked Spock.

"Whenever you think it would be logical," said McCoy.

"I am unable to make that determination. There is still one variable I cannot be certain of."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Your behavior, doctor."

"You're not exactly setting the mood, Spock." Maybe admitting he needed a drink or two wasn't exactly his best manners, but McCoy still felt that was mostly Spock's fault.

"Setting the mood?"

"Now, maybe all this talk about theory and variables would make another Vulcan swoon, but it's not doing a lot to get my motor running."

"But you're human."

"Mr. Spock, I believe you're alluding to a very offensive stereotype," said McCoy. "Besides, I'm not a teenager anymore."

"I fail to see what your age has to do with it."

"Never mind." If Spock wanted a lesson on human developmental stages, that was a job for the computer. He reached under the table and pulled his boots off. "Look, let's say you're playing chess with Jim. While he's thinking about his next move, you reach over and..." McCoy reached across the table and lightly stroked Spock's arm.

"Is this a human errogenous zone?" asked Spock. He looked a bit worried, and McCoy realized he was probably thinking about all the times they'd pulled each other out of the way of something or helped each other up.

"No," said McCoy. "You just want to get his attention." How exactly did he end up trying to teach a Vulcan how to pitch woo at their captain? He slouched slightly.

"Are you rubbing your foot on me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I am signalling sexual interest," said McCoy. "And then, if you don't ask some stupid question about it, I'll do the human courtship dance."

"I believe instructors are generally told not to use sarcasm," said Spock.

"I'm starting to think you don't have the prerequisites for this class," said McCoy. "Now, you reach over, and then you tell him you're not interested in chess."

"Has the game ended?"

McCoy thought about kicking him. "No, that's the whole point."

"I do not wish to be accused of forfeiting because I fear I will lose," said Spock.

"Spock, you do this, Jim's not going to give a damn about chess either," said McCoy. "He says anything like that, you just flirt back."

"Vulcans do not flirt."

"Then tell him you're too damned horny to keep playing," said McCoy. "Or 'overwhelmed by sexual arousal' or something. Only don't say that because he'll probably think it's _pon farr_."

"And then what am I supposed to do?"

"Spock, you tell Jim you'd rather screw than play chess, I think he'll take care of the rest." The chess board probably wouldn't survive, but there had to be a few spares lying around.

"And what if I told you that, doctor?"

"I'd be surprised, Spock, since from what I hear, my mind is too illogical to tell the difference between a queen and a bishop."

"I may have been in error."

McCoy grinned and stretched his foot up to Spock's thigh. "You, Spock?" This was already turning out to be a better idea than he'd thought. While he wasn't completely adverse to an exchange of information and ideas, he'd been waiting months for Spock to admit he was wrong about something.

"Unlike certain members of the crew, I am capable of admitting to my mistakes."

McCoy stood up and walked over to Spock's side of the table. "And by 'certain members of the crew', I assume you mean one in particular."

Spock looked up at him. "Doctor, what if I told you I have no interest in discussing your many incorrect perceptions?"

"I'd check you for a pulse," said McCoy. He placed two fingers just under Spock's jaw. "You seem healthy enough."

"I see your training failed to include--"

"Shut up." He tipped Spock's chin up and bent down to kiss him. McCoy hadn't expected fireworks, but he'd expected _something_. He ran his hands over Spock's biceps and tugged on his arms.

"What are you doing?"

"That means I want you to stand up."

Spock did. "Why not simply say--"

"I was busy," said McCoy. He put his hands on Spock's hips and pulled himself closer to the Vulcan (because it was probably easier to do it that way).

He kissed him again, and it was still like kissing a very detailed mannequin. "I know I'm not a pretty blonde, Spock, but I do know I've seen you do this before."

"You remember the girl, but you cannot remember that I was impaired," said Spock.

"We were all a little impaired." McCoy kissed his way from Spock's mouth to his ear. "Wouldn't kill you to relax, would it?"

"I had no idea your understanding of Vulcans was so inadequate."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

Spock sighed as if this was all incredibly inconvenient. "Relaxing would not cause me any injury."

"Then relax, you damned hobgoblin." McCoy grabbed his ass, mostly because it was there. "And figure out something to do with your hands."

"Such as?"

"Spock, when you just stand there, it...it makes me feel like you don't actually want to do this."

"It was my idea."

"Then act like it." He moved one of Spock's hands to the small of his back. "Just do...whatever feels logical." He started to move the other one, but Spock held his hand--gingerly, like a kid on his first date. McCoy found it strangely charming. "Much better." He reached up and caressed the back of Spock's neck.

It took longer than it should have to get Spock to open his mouth, but he finally parted his lips just slightly before McCoy started to seriously consider just telling him what to do. As he slid his tongue over Spock's, McCoy could admit--though he sure wasn't going to do it out loud--that this probably seemed highly illogical.

McCoy was relieved when Spock--slowly and tentatively--started to kiss him back. He was still a bit awkward, but Spock had picked up lying, sarcasm, and cheating at cards pretty fast. Jim had even managed to teach him a few dirty songs, and Jim couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.

Since McCoy kissed better than Jim sang (or at least he certainly hoped so), Spock would probably be pretty good at it after half an hour of practice.

McCoy pulled Spock even closer. Spock's hand squeezed his, and his thumb stroked the back of McCoy's hand. "Now that's more like it, darlin."

Spock looked at him with that little quarter smile and said, "Really, doctor?"

McCoy suddenly remembered that, slight improvement or not, this was Spock. He tried to pull away and was about to tell Spock to go fuck himself, but Spock held him tight. "I find it strange that you and the captain are from the same region of Earth, and yet you vary so much in pronunciation and vocabulary. I am curious to see how else you differ."

Spock kissed him, and McCoy considered pointing out that it was probably impolite to tell your partners that you were comparing them to each other. Still, it was interesting that Spock would find that interesting.

"Am I doing it correctly?"

And Jim always seemed to be able to get Spock to stop being a son of a bitch, even for a little while. By now Jim would probably have Spock spawled on the bed, or maybe he'd be feeling impatient and just be on his knees with that green cock in his mouth.

"Doctor?"

"I'm sorry, what was the question again?"

"Was that to your satisfaction?"

He still had a bit of time to bargain--maybe tell Spock he'd need to watch the first few times. And Jim was an exhibitionist anyway, so he wouldn't mind.

"Almost," said McCoy. "I think you could use another demonstration."

He probably shouldn't think about the fact that, if he watched, Jim would really play it up. And ask him to join in because Jim just did not get that people didn't always want to share him.

He kissed Spock's neck, gently at first and then roughly when that didn't seem to do anything. With his free hand he reached under Spock's shirt. "You just tell me when," he said as he started to toy with Spock's nipple.

"When?" asked Spock.

"I don't know how sensitive you are," said McCoy. "Don't want to hurt you." He kissed as much of Spock's shoulder as he could get at and couldn't tell if the noticeable inhale was because of that or because of what he was doing with his hand. "At least not unless you want me to."

"Why would I want you to inflict pain?"

_Oh, darlin, we are gonna have some fun_ McCoy thought as he pinched, then twisted. "Maybe I'll save that for your next lesson," he said. As soon as it was out of his mouth, he waited for Spock to correct him.

"I think it will require a great deal of explanation," said Spock.

"It'd be logical for you to start getting your clothes off." McCoy only had enough patience for Spock to take off his shirt and undershirt before kissing him as he dragged him towards the bed.

When he kissed Spock's shoulders, McCoy was sure he heard something that could just barely be interpreted as a gasp (or at least a slightly louder exhale). He tried his neck and then his shoulder again, just to be sure.

Spock let him kiss his shoulders and chest for awhile, but after McCoy traced his nipples with his tongue, Spock gently pushed him away. McCoy wondered if he'd stumbled across some weird Vulcan taboo until he was flat on his back and Spock was copying everything he'd just done. "Right there," he said once Spock had worked his way down his neck. "Just..." He tried to think of a way to explain it. "Suck on my skin."

"Doctor, that is--"

"It's just as logical as rubbing you with my foot and putting my tongue in your mouth," said McCoy. "Now suck my damn neck."

He could practically hear Spock thinking something snide about humans, but since he actually did it, McCoy couldn't be bothered to do anything other than moan quietly and slowly thrust up against Spock. By sheer coincidence--and damned good luck--he just happened to rub against Spock's hard on, and his hips pretty much took over after that.

He really needed to get his pants off, but that would require moving. It also meant Spock might stop giving him what felt like several very impressive hickeys.

"What about you, Spock?" he asked. He was afraid he'd have to explain that, and he probably couldn't. At least not coherently. Fortunately Spock just held out his hand and started to move down McCoy's chest.

"Don't be afraid to use your teeth, darlin." He hadn't meant for that to slip out again, but he really didn't care what Spock thought anymore. And the son of a bitch wasn't supposed to be doing a whole lot of thinking anyway. "Just don't break the skin," he added when Spock seemed hesitant.

Since he wasn't sure what to do with the hand, McCoy decided to start by kissing it. Spock's index and middle fingers curled towards his mouth, so McCoy nibbled on them, and when that seemed to be going well, sucked on them. Spock moaned very softly against his chest.

"Yes," McCoy murmured, pressing his lips against Spock's palm. "Oh, god, that's just what I want to hear, darlin."

Spock snatched his hand back and sat up. "Why do you take such satisfaction in my failure?"

_Shit._ McCoy tried not to think of all the things in the room he could use to kill him. "It's not that, Spock," he said softly. His dick was absolutely throbbing. This was an absolutely terrible time to have to explain the physchological factors involved in human arousal. "I take satisfaction in knowing I'm doing a good job." He sat up and put a hand on Spock's shoulder. "And I...I want you to have a good time because..." He tried to think of what he could say that Spock would understand and that he was actually willing to say to him.

If Spock left him with a severe case of blue balls _and_ made him feel like a jackass, there was a good chance he really might kill him.

"Because you are my friend, doctor," said Spock.

"Yes, Spock," said McCoy. "Because I'm your friend. And you're mine." It was probably the first time they'd actually said it to each other instead of grudgingly not-quite-admitting it to Jim or using it as a reason why they didn't want yet another group of bored aliens torturing or killing them.

Spock held up his hand, palm out. McCoy assumed he was telling him they were done, but then the Vulcan looked pointedly at McCoy's hand. When McCoy copied him, Spock pressed their palms together.

He knew Vulcans--or at least Spock--well enough to know that this was probably about as much as Spock could give and certainly more than he could really ask for.

It wasn't just Spock--Jim said it with a certain smile and a particular way of saying your name (unless he was exceptionally drunk). And McCoy loved the hell out of Jim, but he certainly wasn't going to actually say so. Jim would probably assume it meant he was dying (and he'd probably be right).

His feelings for Spock were a bit more complicated. At the moment they were further complicated by how desperately horny he was.

"Spock, you are absolutely killing me."

Spock looked concerned--and of course he did since it was actually possible to kill a Vulcan by withholding sex.

"I'm exaggerating," said McCoy. "But if we're done here, I'd like to know so I can go jerk off."

Spock gave him the "how stupid are you?"/"don't make me actually say it" look. McCoy lunged.

He was probably providing Spock with a classic example of illogical, emotional behavior, but at least he'd be able to explain mouthrape if he had to.

As he tried to get his pants off with just his non-dominant hand, McCoy considered the options. Spock was definitely on the alert for anymore unVulcan behavior, and they'd already had three and a half misunderstandings.

"You know what a blow job is, Spock?"

"No, doctor." He was alternatively pinching and stroking McCoy's nipples in a way that was starting to seem suspiciously like a science experiment. "Would you care to explain it to me?"

Shit yes he would, but Spock didn't need to know about skullfucking just yet. "_Yes_," he said. "Later." (And why on earth did he keep assuming there'd be a later?)

Spock helped him most of the way out of his pants and pulled out his dick. "Fascinating," he murmured as he ran his fingers too god damned lightly over the tip. He delicately felt the edge of the glans and then used only his index and middle fingers to just barely stroke the shaft. Because Spock was a complete son of a bitch.

"You fucking hobgoblin."

"Is something the matter, doctor?" There was an almost unnoticeable tremor in his voice.

"How would you like it if I did that to you?"

"I assume I would enjoy it."

_Later_ McCoy told himself. _Tell him you've got some secret human sex thing you forgot to tell him, and then tease the hell out of him._

He caught Spock's eye. The bastard had at least some idea what he was doing. McCoy moved back, not quite out of reach, and let go of Spock's hand. He could see Spock very deliberately check the urge to grab him as McCoy tossed the rest of his clothes to the floor and reached for the nightstand.

Spock had decided it would be logical to finish undressing, and, as usual, his logic was flawless.

McCoy knelt on the bed and watched Spock watch him lube his dick. He really needed to remember that he was just practice for Jim and that this was most likely a one-time exchange of ideas and information.

He got Spock up on his knees and started to thrust in and out between his thighs. He moved one of Spock's hands to his ass because it seemed like the logical thing to do, and Spock would probably come up with something.

"Knew I could count on you," McCoy said as Spock slid a finger inside him.

"Humans talk too much," said Spock. "This is an illogical time to attempt conversation."

Probably because Spock didn't think he could talk and keep up his Vulcan stoicism at the same time. At least now McCoy knew better than to point that out.

"Why don't you tell me what you'd like to do to me?" McCoy whispered in his ear. "Or Jim. I'd sure like to know what you're planning to do to him."

Spock exhaled in away that was very close to moaning and pressed another finger into McCoy.

"What do you think Jim's like in bed, darlin?" He tugged on Spock's earlobe with his teeth. "You think he likes to give orders?"

"Why are you asking me what you already know?" Spock was sounding a bit more breathless.

"Might be different when he's sober, darlin." Spock pressed his other hand against McCoy's mouth. McCoy look the hint and licked it. "And as far as either one of us can remember, it never got much farther than a bit of French kissing." Licking the space between Spock's middle and ring fingers made his hand suddenly tense. "Careful, Spock. I might need that eye." He did it again and practically wrapped his tongue around one of Spock's fingers. "And you can just relax." His kissed Spock's palm one more time, then gripped his hand. "You have got to be one of the most Vulcan people I have ever met."

Then he kissed him because he was afraid of how Spock might be looking at him or what he might try to say. And because he needed to kiss Spock right then and keep kissing him until he moaned into his mouth. He turned his face away, pressing his cheek against Spock's, and clutched his arm and hand as he came.

As his orgasm started to fade, McCoy realized that Spock had gotten off either by sheer willpower or with just his hands.

"Good god," said McCoy.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I think I deserve at least some of the credit, doctor."

McCoy just stared at him, feeling too good and tired and stupid to play along. He wiped off his stomach with a corner of the bedspread, then passed it to Spock and crawled into bed.

He didn't want Spock to leave, but he didn't want to actually admit he wanted him to stay.

In a few minutes the bed moved as Spock joined him. The Vulcan folded his hands over his chest and stared up at the ceiling. McCoy was pretty sure he was meditating which he was also pretty sure Vulcans didn't do in front of anyone.

***

A few days later, Spock appeared at his door. "Doctor, you forgot to explain what a blow job is," said Spock.

"Did I?" asked McCoy. "Well, it's very simple, really." He raised an eyebrow. Spock looked as serene as ever. "Everything all right with Jim?"

"Of course, doctor," said Spock. "I am sure he would have said something if it was not."

"Then--"

"You were quite enthusiastic about explaining the term."

"Oh, I'm still enthusiastic," said McCoy. "Why don't you come in?"

They sat on the edge of the bed and kissed for a bit before Spock asked, "What is this called?"

"French kissing," said McCoy. "Or making out."

"Then this is not a blow job."

"There's a certain order to it, Spock."

"Yet humans insist on 'making out' throughout the entire process."

"You don't like it?"

"I find it better if I do not think about the details."

"That's because you're not supposed to think about the details, you pointy eared Vulcan!"

"I find it surprisingly pleasant, if somewhat illogical."

"Good. Because we're going to do it until I get hard, and then I'll teach you how to blow me." It already seemed perfectly normal to talk that way, although it was a bit depressing to think that Spock had already ruined him for other humans. "Jim sucked your cock yet?"

"Affirmative."

"Don't say 'affirmative' in bed. Unless you'd like to start calling me Captain McCoy."

"I would not."

"And if he's already done it, what do you need me for?"

"He could not tell me why it is called a blow job when it clearly involves sucking. He said it wasn't important."

McCoy held him by the shoulders and looked at him to see if he was serious. Which of course he was since it was Spock. "It isn't."

"I find it...illogical."

"Did you just come here so you could ask me why it's called a blow job?"

"He also could not explain why kissing with one's tongue is considered French."

"I'm a doctor, not a dictionary."

"The dictionary tapes were not particularly helpful."

McCoy sighed. At his age, he really should've known better. "Is this the only reason you stopped by?"

"I believe that is what humans refer to as an excuse."

"Oh." McCoy squeezed his thigh and started kissing him again. "Usually you just ask someone in for a drink. Or ask 'em over to watch a movie."

"I will try to remember that."

That shut him up for awhile. McCoy was pleased to see he'd been right about a little practice--illogical human habit or not, Spock had picked up kissing as easily as he picked up anything else.

"Doctor, you still have not answered the question."

"I told you--"

"If I asked you to have a drink with me, would you expect a drink?"

"After First Contact, we decided to change the names of all our sex acts just to piss off you uptight, logical Vulcans."

"And why would you do that, doctor?"

"Because behaving illogically is apparently a very good way to get a Vulcan's attention."

"An interesting explanation, doctor. If I were human, I would suspect you are full of shit."

"Ask a stupid question, Mr. Spock..."

"Perhaps I should inquire with Lt. Uhura."

"Don't you dare ask Uhura unless I'm on the bridge to see what she says. And to administer prompt medical attention." He stroked Spock's cheek with the back of his hand. "You ready, darlin?"

As Spock crouched between his knees, he said, "I would be interested to hear your thoughts on my performance, doctor."

"All right, Spock, I'll talk you through it," said McCoy. "Shit, I'll even hold your hand if you want."

He held Spock's hand and mostly just said things like "Just like that" and "That's real good, darlin." Every so often he'd asked, "You all right, Spock?" and Spock would squeeze his hand.

He said Spock's name to warn him--although he could probably tell by the way McCoy was holding on to him. Spock swallowed, and McCoy wondered if Jim had.

"It's been awhile," McCoy said after they'd traded places.

"Would you like me to hold you hand, doctor?"

"I think I'll manage." Since Spock had just gone right to work, McCoy decided he might as well show him something different, seeing as this was just for educational purposes. He licked his way up the shaft, then kissed and tongued the tip before he pulled Spock into his mouth.

There was something incredibly frustrating about blowing someone who didn't react at all.

"I do not seem to find this as pleasurable as you and the captain do," said Spock.

"Maybe it's because you're afraid to feel anything," said McCoy.

"Fear is an emotion."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Maybe it's a trust thing."

Spock looked annoyed. "Doctor, I have allowed you to operate on me, and our internal organs differ far more than our external ones."

Which was true--other than being a bit green, the dick in front of him wasn't all that different than the human variety. Which didn't really surprise McCoy. Spock wouldn't exist if humans and Vulcans were all that different.

"Maybe it's a Vulcan thing."

"Perhaps."

"You want me to suck your fingers?"

Spock held out his hand. "A highly illogical question, doctor."

"Be nice, or I won't try to see how many I can fit in my mouth."

He could get all four in there, but fingers and thumb seemed to be more trouble than it was worth. If he listened closely, he could hear Spock breathing a bit faster than usual. McCoy started to try different things, just to see what kind of reaction it'd get. Biting and sucking on Spock's knuckles seemed to do something, but licking the back of his hand was a bust. Licking his palm was much more successful, and if you picked just the right spot it was possible to suck on someone's palm the way you would their neck.

Spock made a soft sound as McCoy lightly bit the little folds of skin by his thumb. "It's all right, Spock," he mumbled. "I won't tell anybody if you don't."

"Doctor, I would like to meld with you."

"Hope you can do it one handed." McCoy went back to sucking on Spock's fingers. It couldn't be possible for Spock to fry both their brains because he was a little distracted. Spock wasn't the type to suggest it if it was.

Spock pressed the fingers of one hand against McCoy's temple. "My mind to yours. Our minds are one."

McCoy had just enough time to think it didn't take as long as it used to before he got hit by Spock's arousal. He moaned around Spock's fingers and Spock moaned with him. It was a bit unsettling, and why was he suddenly doing it now?

_I feel what you feel_ Spock answered. Which was not very damn helpful because he was too illogical to understand that, since McCoy lacked Vulcan self-control, Spock was both feeling it himself and feeling it the way McCoy did.

Sort of like an echo, only except instead of hearing a sound come back at him, McCoy was ready to hump the floor.

If this was his punishment for all the times he'd said Vulcans couldn't feel anything, he'd have to start saying it more often.

He could feel his hand tighten on Spock's thigh, and he could hear the muffled noises coming from his own mouth and Spock moaning or gasping every time he did. He wasn't sure which one of them desperately needed him to keep going. _Both of us_ according to Spock, and he seemed amused.

Amused and a few other things (from both of them) that would make it very difficult to look Spock in the eye when this was all over. Which was illogical, even for him--especially since he'd forgotten (or at least hadn't been thinking about) Vulcan touch telepathy.

But it wouldn't kill him to relax and he wasn't supposed to be thinking anyway, so McCoy just sucked Spock's fingers and felt it from both sides until he got to feel a Vulcan orgasm.

Spock gently disconnected. McCoy leaned on Spock's legs as he waited for his own to stop shaking. Their eyes met and he asked, "Now why in the hell would you want to suppress that?"

"Because it is the Vulcan way," said Spock. If he was still amused by any of this--and, no, he really didn't sound like he was--it was impossible to tell.

***

Spock--that god damned, stupid Vulcan--had decided to jump in front of the Omicronian crested lizard just as soon as they'd lost all contact with the ship.

Jim helped him get Spock into a seated position, and McCoy scanned him even though he already knew what the tricorder would tell him.

"Two hours if he doesn't move," said McCoy. "Maybe three if we can get some of that poison out, but there's a chance we'd get enough of it to--"

"Doesn't matter," said Jim. "If we can get him to sickbay, could you help him?"

"If I could get him there now, I could have him back to work in half an hour," said McCoy. "It'll take him a bit longer to get back on his feet, but if he's still breathing when we get him back to the ship, I can treat him."

"Captain, I cannot allow you to--"

"Quiet, Spock," said McCoy. "You know the tongue's the strongest muscle in the body."

"Doctor, that is incorrect by any conventional measure of strength."

"Well, I'm taking the risk, Mr. Spock," said Jim.

"Jim, I don't need two patients," said McCoy. "In these conditions, one is more than I can handle."

"At the moment, doctor, you have one patient and one nurse," said Jim.

They took turns sucking the poison out of the scratches on Spock's arm and the puncture wounds on his hand. Every so often McCoy would run the tricorder over him, and Jim would try to contact the ship.

"Jim," said McCoy when it was clear they were both just wasting batteries.

"You think I don't know?" Jim snapped.

"I've checked his tricorder," said McCoy. "Most of the plants are just as toxic as the lizards."

"There has to be something."

"His temperature's dropping. Help me keep him warm." It wouldn't do much, but Jim needed to feel like he was doing something, and it might make Spock more comfortable.

They sat on either side of Spock. The Vulcan didn't even bother to mention his superior physiology or tell them he was perfectly fine.

"Your color's not so good, Jim," said McCoy. He tried to stay positive--or at least detached--since Spock could still feel whatever he was thinking and Jim was already worried.

"The stress," said Jim. "And, like you said, you don't need another patient."

"I'm starting to think you're a pretty lousy nurse. Lucky for you you're such a good starship captain."

Jim smiled at him. "Yes, it's too bad we don't happen to have a starship right now."

McCoy felt lightheaded. He and Jim would most likely be able to metabolize the small amount of poison they'd gotten--it wouldn't be a pleasant way to spend a few hours, but if the _Enterprise_ never came back, they'd live long enough to worry about starving to death.

By the time they finally got in touch with the _Enterprise_, McCoy and Jim were trying to keep Spock talking more for their own benefit than his. Especially since only Jim seemed interested in how much he hated cows.

"Who hates cows?" asked McCoy. All three of them were shivering and since neither he nor Jim had started vomiting, he was starting to wonder about them being able to handle the poison on their own. "Who even cares enough about cows to--"

"Bones, did you know that cows have to be milked at four in the morning?" asked Jim.

"Well, Jim, seeing as I grew up in the civilized world, I didn't even know about four in the morning until I was eighteen."

"Even in the snow."

"You know what snow is, Spock?" Which of course he did--too many of these damn planets were covered in snow--but McCoy kept trying to get a rise out of him.

"Yes, doctor." And Spock kept giving him very precise, very basic answers. He could ask him if he knew what snow was or when his birthday was and other questions just as stupid, and Spock would just tell him. It'd been at least half an hour since Spock had even bothered to give him a dirty look.

"What about cows?"

"A type of Earth quadraped."

"A mean spirited, foul smelling Earth quadraped," said Jim.

"Damn it, Jim--"

"_Enterprise_ to landing party. Come in, landing party."

McCoy got to the communicator first and started giving instructions for what he needed to have waiting for him in the transporter room. He was probably rude to whoever it was on the communicator, and he was probably rude to everyone except the medical team waiting in the transporter room (well, he may have snapped at Peterson and Ivers, but they were used to that by now.)

It wasn't until they were in sickbay and pumped full of the antidote that McCoy had time to realize that Jim didn't know he'd slept with Spock.

McCoy put a hand on Spock's shoulder--mostly to keep him from getting up and at least partly because he still could. "I don't care what your Vulcan physiology tells you, Mr. Spock," said McCoy. "Your doctor is telling you you need to rest."

It was probably better if Jim didn't know. McCoy assumed it had just been a temporary thing, especially if Spock hadn't told Jim.

Spock gave him a strange look, but didn't argue. McCoy looked at the bio bed readings to make sure they were still where they were supposed to be.

"I'm fine, Bones," said Jim. "You said--"

"I said probably," said McCoy. "I want you here under observation. Just to make sure." That wasn't really necessary, but it was the only way to make sure that Jim actually tried to get some sleep instead of spending all night sulking about Spock's suicidal loyalty and what he could have done differently. "I'll tie you to the bed if I have to."

"Would that be for my benefit or yours, doc?"

McCoy had always had a friend or two who'd joked like that. Jim was the only one who sometimes sounded like he meant it. "And gag you."

"Now, if you could make physicals this interesting, I wouldn't have to try so hard to avoid them."

McCoy used the rest of the evening shift to catch up on paperwork, look over the inventory, and keep the ship's top officers from escaping. For once Spock didn't bother to point out that, as a Vulcan, he could ignore any discomfort and work himself into a state of exhaustion much more efficiently than any mere human. He seemed to be in some kind of trance for most of the night, and McCoy just kept an eye on the bio bed read out.

Jim stared moodily at the ceiling, tossed and turned as much as you could on a bio bed, and sometimes managed to nap. Captain James Kirk was suited for command because whenever he was forced to follow someone else's orders, he had all the grace and charm of a six year old who'd been told no cookies before dinner.

"Not your fault, Jim boy," he said when he caught him brooding again. "You may be captain, but we've still got free will."

"It was almost--"

"But it wasn't. So quit sulking and get some god damned sleep."

"Bones, you're a hypocrite. We both got almost the same amount of lizard venom, and you're pulling an all nighter."

"In three and a half hours I'm going to go back to my quarters and go to bed," said McCoy. He didn't mention he was only doing that because it was more dignified than Christine chasing him out of his own sickbay. "And the only reason I'm not there right now is that you two can't be trusted."

"Bones, sometimes I think you enjoy this."

"No, Jim, I really don't."

And since he was just as bad as Jim and Spock, McCoy stayed to finish up a few things at the end of the shift. "Anything out of the ordinary, and I expect you to come right back here," he told Jim. Or rather his back as the captain made a break for the bridge.

When Christine gave him _that look_, he said, "I need coffee, nurse, not a lecture."

"Skipping breakfast and a good night's sleep, doctor?" asked Nurse Chapel. "Are you able to recognize the signs of exhaustion and malnutrition in yourself or just in the captain and Mr. Spock?"

"I guess that means I'll be getting my own coffee?"

"Exercise is quite good for you."

She was still giving him the nurse's eye, so he said, "Maybe I'll get something to go along with it. You want anything?"

"Yes, I'd like a Chief Medical Officer who takes care of his own health."

He smiled at her. "Now, that's not fair, Christine, I meant something I could actually get."

She smiled back and swatted at him with her PADD. "Well, if you're not going to start taking care of yourself, Leonard, then I guess I'll settle for a coffee."

In the time he was gone, Spock managed to sweet talk his way out of sickbay and back to work (or treatment and that Vulcan physique had worked another miracle. Christine was a nurse first, and enamored a distant second).

It was almost the end of the shift before Chapel gave him that look again, and McCoy was ready to admit he'd be worse than useless if an emergency came up.

"I'm still on call tonight," he said.

"Honestly, doctor." She sighed as if she wasn't the exact same way.

Back in his own quarters, McCoy pulled off his boots, crawled into bed, and called it a day.

He was mostly asleep when he felt the bed shift under someone else's weight and he briefly couldn't remember where he was. He decided it was just a dream--it wouldn't be the first time his brain had forgotten that neither Jocelyn nor Nancy was coming back.

He couldn't tell how much time passed before he was half awake and someone had their arms around him.

"I thought I told you to rest," McCoy muttered. It worked for both the people who knew his door override and were likely to consider coming in for a bit of spooning. Well, not that he'd thought it was all that likely.

If it'd been Jim he would've started a drunken monologue about how much he loved the _Enterprise_, how much he loved Spock, how much he loved McCoy, or an attempt to discuss his feelings for all three without potentially offending any of them.

Fortunately Jim didn't usually drink that much, and these days there was usually some unknown, unintentionally consumed substance involved, especially when he took that fourth option. It could be quite entertaining--in a mean sort of way--to hear Jim try to explain Spock and McCoy to the ship. As long as he wasn't trying to feel you up while you were trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

"It is unfortunate that your species' illogical definition of rest prevents you from recognizing it," said Spock. "And I am aware that you lied about returning to your quarters at the end of the night shift."

"That why you broke in? To tell me that?"

"No, it is not."

McCoy could tell there'd be no point in asking what the real reason was. And pointing out that this was pretty strange for Spock would be worse, so he just put his hand over Spock's and laced their fingers together.

Sleeping fully clothed next to a Vulcan could have been a fine idea in a number of climates, but McCoy's quarters weren't one of them.

Spock squinted at him, and McCoy could see those third eyelids. It was a bit like sharing a bed with a cat--the strange effect of the third eyelid and the annoyed look because you moved too much.

"Mr. Spock, I find your body temperature excessive."

Spock blinked and the extra eyelids disappeared. McCoy wondered if Spock had even noticed they were up or if he still remembered he had them.

("What sort of intelligent life form forgets about parts of his own body?"

"What sort of doctor is so unfamiliar with his patient's anatomy?"

"Well, if you can see again, tell me how many fingers I'm holding up.")

"I will look into the matter, doctor," said Spock. "Just as soon as you find a less bizarre way to regulate your own."

"It works well enough." McCoy scowled at the environmental controls. "You've been messing with this."

Spock rolled over and pulled the blankets around himself. "I believe your part of Earth is quite warm."

"Which is why we have a little something called air conditioning." He lowered the room temperature, looked at Spock for a moment, then bumped it back up a bit. He nudged the lump on the bed. "I should get at least half of those."

"If I find it uncomfortably cold--"

"Then you can leave. Or we can spend the rest of the night fighting over the thermostat."

***

Spock leaned in. McCoy sidestepped. "I want some Vulcan foreplay."

"That would be illogical," said Spock. "You are not--"

"_Logically_ there's got to be some overlap," said McCoy. "After all--"

"I am half human."

"You may be half human, but physically you're practically all Vulcan. And it is only fair."

Spock raised both eyebrows the way he did when he really wanted to sigh or roll his eyes. He held out his hand, palm up. "What exactly do you get out of this?"

McCoy watched Spock rub their fingers together. "You can tell when I'm enjoying myself, can't you?"

"I assume so."

"Well, how does that make you feel?"

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"What logical conclusions do you draw from that, you damn computer?"

"That you are experiencing pleasure."

"That's it?"

"I would consider it a positive."

"Well, that's a start," McCoy muttered. "You remember that little misunderstanding we had?"

"You will have to be more specific than that, doctor."

"First time you came over." Spock had started to move his palm up and down. McCoy wasn't sure if he should stay still or move with him. "First time I sucked your fingers."

"It is unimportant."

"It's very important," said McCoy. "If you're going to keep screwing humans."

"I think that would depend on the humans."

"Then it's important."

"I am starting to understand some of your original complaints."

"Then tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do."

"I do not see how it is all that different from your customary Earth greeting."

"You ever actually shaken someone's hand?"

The damn eyebrow went back up. "Yours on several occassions, doctor. It seems the only things you can remember about Vulcans are the shape of our ears and the color of our blood."

"Don't change the subject," said McCoy, who couldn't remember any of those several occassions. Who remembered hand-shaking? (Unless of course your hands happened to be a particularly sensitive errogenous zone.) "Now, when I can tell you're enjoying yourself, I assume that you're experiencing pleasure, and I find that quite enjoyable." He kissed each of Spock's knuckles. "Because I'm human. It doesn't have a thing to do with you being Vulcan. Now what else do you have to show me?"

Spock didn't say--or do--anything.

Apparently young Vulcans never got curious or, if they did, they didn't get curious about someone who was half alien.

"Forget it," said McCoy. "This is too damned logical for me anyway." He was relieved when Spock let him kiss him, even almost relaxing against him. McCoy tried to think about something other than what a damn shame it was that Vulcans could be incredibly illogical. And he tried not to think about Leila and Christine and god knew how many others (maybe gentlemen preferred blondes, but blondes seemed to be very fond of Spock). It just did not make any damn sense that, spores aside, there wasn't really anybody before him and Jim.

But he really shouldn't be thinking about that with his hands and lips all over a touch telepath.

"Doctor," Spock pushed him back to arm's length, "what exactly is going through that irrational mind of yours?"

"Shouldn't you know?"

This time Spock came pretty close to sighing in frustration or the Vulcan equivalent. "Without a mind meld, I can't know what you are _thinking_, only what you are feeling."

"Just the usual, illogical human things," said McCoy.

Spock gave him a look that was the Vulcan equivalent of "bullshit". And McCoy smiled because of course Spock wasn't going to contradict him and imply that he was actually thinking logically for a change.

"Thinking about how you're too serious, Spock." McCoy kissed him again before he could point out that he was still a member of an incredibly serious species.

He waited for some sign from Spock, but the Vulcan let him take it nice and slow. And pretty soon he forgot about touch telepathy and whatever damn fool thing Spock was probably picking up. For whatever reason he was in the mood to be tender to Spock (of all people), and Spock was in the logical frame of mind to accept it.

Neither one of them said anything because once they started talking it was only a matter of time before they had to start picking at each other.

"Are you satisfied, doctor?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?"

"You are not as vocal as the captain."

He thought about telling Spock that most people didn't appreciate being compared to your other partners, but Spock'd just point out that McCoy already knew about Jim. "No, I don't think most people are," said McCoy. "Most men, anyway. And if I wasn't...satisfied, you think I wouldn't let you know?" McCoy held out three fingers.

Spock raised an eyebrow and held out two. "I beleive that is the Terran Boy Scout's salute."

McCoy lowered his ring finger. "You say that like there's a lot of other Boy Scouts out there."

Spock pressed his fingers against McCoy's, then gently stroked them. "The core concept is hardly unique to Earth."

"So Jim gets loud, does he?"

Spock changed position. He put his head on McCoy's shoulder and steepled his hands. "I believe that is what I said."

"Don't let it go to your head, Spock. I reckon Jim's just like that."

"You reckon, doctor? How long before you begin referring to me in your quaint second person plural?"

"At least I know how to pronounce 'error' correctly."

"No, I don't believe you do."

"Can you really meditate and be a pain in the ass at the same time?"

"It is quite easy," said Spock. "For a well trained and sophisticated mind."

He grinned and stroked the tip of Spock's ear with his thumb. "So that means no, right?"

***

"There something you want to tell me, Bones?" Jim asked over brandy.

"Yes," said McCoy. "I know you've been cheating on your diet." Which of course wasn't it, but it was a damn good distraction.

"What gives you that idea?"

"Your waistline. You know these uniforms don't leave much to the imagination."

If Jim already knew, this would've been where he'd say something--either a joke or just coming right out and saying it. If he knew for certain or at least had a better idea, Jim wouldn't be able to resist a line about leaving things to the imagination.

When he started making excuses about laundry and how quick their uniforms shrank, McCoy knew Spock still hadn't said anything.

It wasn't the first thing they'd kept from Jim, and it wasn't likely to be the last. There were things you didn't tell your commanding officer, and there were things you didn't tell your friend. Jim was both, and Spock and McCoy rarely had to discuss whether or not he didn't need to know something.

That they were going to keep playing this close to the chest was surprising--but, then again, maybe it wasn't.

"We're both civilized men," Jim was saying. "I'm sure we can work something out."

"We already have," said McCoy. "I've given you a better diet, and you're supposed to follow it."

"What about a good old fashioned Earth bribe?"

"Won't work," said McCoy. "You don't have anything I want."

"Everyone has his price, Bones," said Jim. "And eventually I'll figure out yours."

"Do I try to keep you from doing your job?"

Jim grinned at him. "Constantly," he said. "Unless all those questions about what the hell we're doing are just rhetorical."

_What the hell are we doing? You and me have the same secret, Jim boy, and god only knows what the hell Spock's told you._ He almost immediately reconsidered that last thought--Jim didn't have it in him to keep quiet about something like this. And Spock didn't have it in him to actually trick Jim, at least not unless he was in some kind of danger.

Still, the only way they could possibly make things anymore ridiculous was if he and Jim screwed around and didn't tell Spock.

Jim would probably go along with it. Which was the best possible reason not to do it.

***

McCoy kissed Spock's neck and whispered in his ear, "Tell me how Jim fucks you."

"If I understand the implications of your phrasing, he does not," said Spock.

"Now that's a shame," McCoy murmured. He pressed their palms together and kissed Spock on the mouth. Of course technically they hadn't been doing any actual fucking either--he'd been putting it off or avoiding it for some reason.

Maybe it just wasn't Jim's thing.

Spock's other hand slid up his shirt. "He seems to prefer that I fuck him."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"No. And even if I did kiss my mother, what other mouth would I use?"

"God damn Vulcan. Forget I said anything."

"I generally do. I find it to be the wisest course of action."

McCoy pulled off Spock's shirt and pushed him down onto the bed. "So you fuck Jim."

"Yes." Spock watched McCoy play with one of his nipples--he seemed much more interested in his fingers than in what he was actually doing.

"This actually do anything for you?"

"No, but you've always seemed quite eager to do it."

"Damn it, Spock, you don't have to worry about hurting my feelings."

"Trust me, doctor, I do not."

McCoy glared at him. "What the hell were we talking about?"

"Jim."

"Right--you fuck Jim. And he moans and hollers and carries on." McCoy climbed on top of Spock and kissed him for a few minutes. While he kissed him, he massaged one of Spock's hands, trying to remember what worked best.

He could've asked, but it wasn't as if he couldn't remember anything about Vulcans other than the points on the ears and the green blood.

"You are very interested in what I do with the captain," said Spock.

"You could say that," said McCoy. He nibbled Spock's earlobe and thought about what Jim'd look like under the Vulcan.

"Yet your species is still prone to feelings such as jealousy and anger."

"True." McCoy moved a bit lower, lining his hips up with Spock's. If he was going to start grinding--which he certainly was--they might as well both enjoy it. "Very true." He darted his tongue inside Spock's ear and asked, "You like that, Spock?"

"It is an intriguing sensation."

"I'm going to take that as a yes."

"I have observed a tendency towards possessiveness in humans," said Spock. "But that does not seem to be why you ask me about the captain."

"What's wrong, darlin?" Spock liked having his shoulders kissed more than his neck, but this time McCoy decided to forget about that for a little while. "Were you expecting phasers at dawn?"

"I...I merely wish to understand your motivations."

"I know you know what fantasizing is, Spock." McCoy rolled onto one side and squeezed Spock through his pants. "Somebody like you, I bet you thought _long_ and _hard_\--" he emphasized his words with a slow squeeze--"about all the possible outcomes before you decided you wanted to screw Jim."

"Determining the possibility--"

"I'm not saying there wasn't math involved. Since it is you. But--" he tongued the tip of Spock's ear--"you had to think about what it'd be like."

"Even for you that is highly illogical," said Spock. "Why would I come here to think about the captain when I could just as easily have gone to his quarters?"

Now _that_ should've bothered him. Instead it bothered him a little that it didn't.

"I'd watch who I called illogical, Spock." McCoy touched the dark green and yellow marks he'd left on Spock's neck. "You act sweet to me, and you won't have any explaining to do to Jim."

"Explaining?"

"I know Jim doesn't know about this."

"He didn't ask."

"Now, I didn't say anything about lying. But you seemed a bit put out that nobody was getting territorial over you." He picked up Spock's hand like he'd never seen one and touched it too lightly and too gently--just like the damn Vulcan had done the first time he'd seen McCoy's dick. "You know what a hickey is, Spock?"

"I am unfamiliar with the term."

"It's a bit like a bruise." He just barely brushed his lips against the back of Spock's hand. He leaned over and kissed, then sucked the place where Spock's neck and shoulder met. "That's how you get one. And they can be devilishly difficult to explain." McCoy smiled at him. "Any human'll know what they are and what they mean."

"What they mean."

McCoy started to kiss his shoulder--hard enough to definitely be noticed, but not hard enough to leave a mark. If Spock played along or flat out refused to play, McCoy wasn't going to make more work for himself.

"They mean you've been fooling around with somebody," said McCoy. "I made 'em low enough that you won't need to wear a turtleneck tomorrow, but Jim'll probably get a good look at them, and he'll know somebody else on this ship just staked a claim on you."

There was almost a hungry look in Spock's eyes. "What exactly do you expect to happen?"

"I don't know if I care." He straddled Spock again and pinned his arms to the bed.

"Doctor, we both know I can easily free myself."

"But you're not going to," said McCoy. He moved his fingers just enough to remind Spock how close he was to his palms. "You want some illogical human possessiveness, but you're too afraid of what Jim might do to really set us against each other." He dragged one thumb over the fat of Spock's hand and left it perfectly still at the base of Spock's palm. "But you know how to set me off, don't you, Spock? You know all you have to do is tell me how much you love Jim's cock in your mouth, and you know that'll make me want to remind you who's boss."

"May I remind you, doctor, that--"

"We're going to play a little game, Spock." McCoy let go of one wrist and cupped Spock's face in his hand. "Now, if you don't want to play, just say so, and we can do things the usual way. And I'll erase those love bites with one of my 'noxious potions'."

"What are the rules?"

"They're very simple," said McCoy. "You do what I say. Or you just tell me you don't want to play anymore."

"I find the first rule highly illogical."

"What did I say about the i-word?"

"I apologize, doctor."

"Very good, Spock. I see you've already figured it out." McCoy leaned back and sat on Spock so he could take his own shirt off.

"Give me your hands." Spock did, and McCoy stroked them as lightly as he could with just the tips of his fingers.

"Doctor, shouldn't you be telling me what to do to you?"

"Spock, have you been researching this?" He knew which spots really got Spock going, and he made sure to just graze them.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing well."

McCoy didn't know if he'd be able to win this particular staring contest. The thought of Spock sitting at his desk, idly rubbing his chin and mouth with his hand as he looked up human sex acts--that was the sort of thought that should not have driven him wild.

"I didn't think you were the type, Spock." He slowly dragged his thumbnails across Spock's palms, then went back to teasing his hands. "You want me to order you around?"

"It would be an interesting experience."

"What do you think I should do if you don't listen?" asked McCoy. "I assume you're not going to be able to help yourself. Just like you keep trying to grab at me." He held his hands above his head and smiled down at Spock. "Now are you going to behave?"

Spock nodded. McCoy stroked his hands and fingers a little bit harder, but still not as much as he suspected Spock wanted.

"Anything wrong?" McCoy asked. "You want anything, all you got to do is ask me nicely."

"I find your current efforts insufficient."

"That's not asking," said McCoy. "And it's awfully vague. And I think you can be a lot nicer than that."

"Doctor, I would appreciate it," Spock said with that faint Vulcan smirk of his, "if you could be less inept."

"Suit yourself." McCoy pulled one of his hands away. This time Spock lunged for it. McCoy smacked his hand and then pinned him by his shoulders. "Now what did I tell you?" McCoy wasn't quite sure how he'd feel if Spock just flipped him onto his back and went to town, but it sure would be interesting.

But as he looked at Spock and Spock looked back, McCoy knew it wouldn't happen that way, because that wouldn't be a very Vulcan thing to do.

"Well?" McCoy asked. The sharp inhale he'd heard when he'd smacked the back of Spock's hand had, in its own way, been just as interesting as the idea of Spock changing the rules.

"Since I do not wish for you to expend unnecessary energy, it would be much more effective if you used a firmer grip on my hands."

"Very thoughtful, Spock." He tightened his grip on Spock's shoulders. "You sass me again, I'm going to show you the back of my hand."

Spock looked skeptical, but didn't say anything. McCoy pushed himself back up. He curled his hands around Spock's fingers and just held them.

"I suspect you are deliberately trying to frustrate me."

"Who, me?" McCoy squeezed his fingers.

"Now I am certain of it."

"Like I said, Spock, you want anything, you just got to ask nicely."

"I would like you to massage my palms."

McCoy started with the right one. "You want me to or you need me to?"

"It seems you have actually gotten worse at this."

"Does that mean you want me to stop?"

"That is not what I said. And I notice you are not 'showing me the back of your hand'."

"That disappoint you, Spock?" He started to rub Spock's palm with his knuckles and smiled when he heard the slight catch in Spock's breath.

"Given your usual behavior, I highly doubt you would strike me or anyone else."

McCoy dropped his hand and grabbed him by the hair. "You want to try me?"

"No matter how I respond, doctor, it will not change your basic nature."

"Anyone else." As he leaned in, he pulled Spock closer to him. "Anyone in particular, Spock?"

"I'm sure you have someone in mind, doctor."

"That meant you'd like to see Jim like this?"

Spock seemed to seriously consider it. "I do not know."

McCoy let go of his hair and stroked his cheek. "That's just fine, Spock. Long as you're still having fun, that's just fine."

"Doctor, I would like to kiss you."

"Which kind?"

"Both."

McCoy realized he'd been tricked and that Spock was trying to take advantage of his uncontrolable human impulses around the time Spock caught his lower lip with his teeth--something he'd learned from Jim.

As he thought about how maybe it was time to get too drunk with Jim again, McCoy knew he didn't have a hope of teasing Spock now.

He let Spock roll them over. He tried to warp his arms around the Vulcan's neck and back, but couldn't with Spock gripping both his hands.

"Doctor."

McCoy wondered what Spock called Jim in bed. Probably "Jim", but what if he called him "captain" sometimes? What if they both called him that while they--

"Doctor, I want you to fuck me."

"You sure, Spock?"

"Yes. And I would not mind if you called me by that illogical term you seem to favor."

"All right, darlin." McCoy slid out from under Spock and cupped the Vulcan's face in his hands. "But you're going to tell me what to do."

"Are you attempting a mind meld?"

"Shut up, Spock." He kissed him and asked, "You want me to fuck you or not?"

"I thought I had made myself quite clear."

"And I thought I told you to be on your best behavior, Spock."

Being Spock he remembered where to find the lube. He wrapped a slick hand around McCoy and stroked him and kissed him.

"Darlin," McCoy caught Spock's eyes. "You keep that up and..." He gripped Spock's thigh. Spock looked almost smug, and then McCoy was moaning Spock's name into his shoulder as he came in his hand.

Spock saying "fuck" was pretty out of the ordinary, and Spock saying "fuck" as in "I want you to fuck me" was god damned incredible. McCoy took a few moments to catch his breath, and then he went right back to kissing Spock with his lips and his hands.

"Doctor--"

"Just give me ten minutes," said McCoy. "Maybe fifteen."

Spock seemed surprised or confused--which meant that McCoy and Jim were getting old if neither one of them had managed to teach him about this sort of thing. Or Spock had been absolutely wearing the hell out of Jim.

"You still interested, darlin?"

"Sixteen minutes, fo--"

"Damn you, Spock, that was an estimate." McCoy hated the fact that he was just a little bit turned on by the fact that Spock had actually timed it. "All I want to hear from you are directions."

"Don't you know what you're doing?"

"Yeah, but maybe I want to hear it from you."

It was probably very close to how the computer would've described it, except Spock was hot and tight, and McCoy could hear just the slightest tremor in his voice.

"I think you should increase your speed."

"You mean 'faster'?"

"Yes."

"Say it."

"It is incredibly trite, doctor."

McCoy went a bit faster since Spock did have a point and he'd already asked a lot from him. "What's Jim say to you?"

"I have no intention of imitating it."

"You at least going to tell me?"

"It is usually an assortment of inarticulate noises, my name, and invocations of Earth deities," said Spock.

"You should take that as a compliment, darlin." He decided not to ask what exactly Vulcans would say.

"Something amuses you, doctor?"

"Just thinking about Vulcan porn, Spock."

"There is no--"

"Mmm, you're just so _logical_."

Spock raised both eyebrows. "Obviously, doctor."

McCoy started sucking Spock's fingers to keep from laughing--or at least try to hide the fact that he was about to. Which probably didn't work all that well since Spock could tell he thought something was funny, but Spock knew enough by now to keep his mouth shut if he wanted his fingers sucked on.

Spock gave up on asking him out loud, and McCoy gave up on trying to make him. Spock begged with his eyes, and McCoy fucked him harder and faster and asked, "You like that, darlin?"

They came at the same time. Once he was able to think again, McCoy remembered that he was dealing with Spock. "That wasn't a coincidence, was it?"

"I had hoped to be more accurate," said Spock. "You are quite unpredictable."

He'd complain about that sort of hobgoblinery later. McCoy rolled onto his back. Spock could be weird about apologies, and there wasn't exactly a right way to apologize for sweating all over somebody who didn't even have sweat glands. "You want to stay, Spock?"

"Thank you, doctor."

He pulled Spock into his arms. "You did real good, darlin."

"Well."

"Up til now, anyway." He kissed Spock's hair and fell asleep to his pointy eared explanation on the importance of good grammar.

***

"Bones, how stupid do you think I am?"

"You know, Jim, my daddy always told me never to ask a question I didn't want answered."

"I like to know what's going on on my ship," said Jim. "And between my officers."

That really didn't narrow it down, but of course it wouldn't help to say so. "Jim, the way I see it, if Spock doesn't want to be called a soulless green blooded bastard, he should stop acting like one."

"That's...when did you call him that?"

"I think it was while you were enjoying some Melvarian hospitality."

"And was this before or after you two started sleeping together?"

"After."

"And when were you two planning on telling me about this?"

"Oh, about the same time you got around to telling me about you and Spock."

Jim looked surprised and, somehow, slightly offended. "Bones, you know Vulcans are a very private people."

"Sure. Just like I know they can't lie," said McCoy. "Jim, all I did was keep the same thing from you that you kept from me. You want to be miffed at someone, try Spock. The whole thing was his idea."

"I'm not miffed, Bones, I just feel a bit left out."

"Left--now how in the hell can you feel left out?"

Jim gave him a charming smile. "How can I not? I've known you much longer than Spock has."

McCoy sighed. "Jim, I don't know what Spock's real motivation is, but I know he'd choose you over me in a heartbeat."

"I think we've made it perfectly clear that--"

"I'm not just talking about this, Jim. I don't mind, but there's no point in you feeling 'left out' when--"

"I'm afraid that doesn't work, Bones."

Jim touched his arms just below the shoulders. McCoy wondered if he should take his own, original advice to Spock. "Course it works. That's how--"

"It doesn't work, Bones, because I need you." Jim proved he usually needed McCoy to keep him from doing stupid shit by kissing him. "So what bullshit reason did Spock give you to get into your pants?"

"That is between me and the notoriously private Mr. Spock," said McCoy. "Why'd he decide to tell you?"

"Mr. Spock," said Jim, "our incredibly logical science officer, informed me that he considers you to be a better kisser than I am. I believe he said 'vastly superior'."

"Sounds logical," said McCoy.

"Obviously I'm going to need a bit more evidence."

"Obviously."

Jim kissed him like they had all the time in the world--which of course they didn't because they were both assigned to the _Enterprise_. Something hit the ship, and they both hit the floor.

"Who'd you leave in charge up there?" asked McCoy.

"Spock," said Jim. The ship shuddered again, just as they were both starting to stand. McCoy caught Jim's arm and only managed to get dragged down with him. "He usually drives better than this. Come on, I have a feeling we're both needed."

There were the usual bumps and bruises that happened when the ship wasn't flying right. A few broken bones thrown into the mix, but at least this time it wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed.

"Broken wrist," said McCoy. "And I assume you thought it would be logical to avoid medical treatment as long as possible."

"Attempting to reach other parts of the ship would have meant risking further injury," said Spock.

McCoy picked up the bone knitter. "Yes, it's a shame that we lost communications between the bridge and sickbay."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I was not aware of any problems with the ship's communications system."

"No, just with some of its personnel," McCoy muttered. "I could've gone up there, and don't tell me about the risk." He slowly and carefully moved Spock's hand back and then forward. "Does that hurt?"

"It does not."

He picked up the tricorder again and scanned Spock's wrist. "Which kind?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I am unable to give an answer unless I know the rest of the question."

"You told Jim you think I'm a better kisser than he is," said McCoy. "He mentioned it before you decided to do a barrel roll." Still a small fracture there. Spock could probably take care of it by slipping into a trance or just sheer Vulcan will power, but Spock didn't need to know that and McCoy already had the knitter out. "So I wanted to know which kind."

"Vulcan," said Spock.

"He must be pretty lousy at it."

"A harsh assessment, doctor."

"Why exactly did you tell him that?"

"Competition often improves performance."

"You should be fine," said McCoy. "At least until the next time you decide to completely ignore your symptoms. Competition again?"

Spock sat up. "I thought it might provide an additional incentive for the captain."

So it was an accurate assessment, but Spock would point out he hadn't said anything about whether or not it was true. "What if I said I wanted to make this exclusive?"

"Exclusive?"

"Monogamous," said McCoy.

"I would agree," Spock said without hesitation.

"And what would you omit?"

"I would continue to engage in intimate contact with the captain," said Spock. "I would tell each of you that my former relationship with the other no longer existed, and let you infer I meant it had ended rather than changed."

"And you assume Jim and I would just quit talking to each other?" asked McCoy.

"You have both proven a willingness not to discuss certain subjects," said Spock. "I assume your feelings for each other would prevent you from mentioning what would be considered a 'sore subject'."

"Doesn't seem to be logical to tell me all this."

"I do not believe your request is serious, doctor," said Spock. "One thing I find particularly strange about humans is your unwillingness to speak plainly despite your frequent displays of emotion."

McCoy felt like a jackass, and there really was no way to say "You like Jim better" without acting like a jackass (especially when you were pretty sure you felt the same way). So instead he asked, "It's not like this on Vulcan, is it?"

"No, doctor. As far as I am aware, Vulcans do not bond with more than one person at a time."

"So who's it going to be? I assume this is a sort of trial run," said McCoy.

"I have no intention of choosing," said Spock. Before that could quite sink in, he added, "Now that the captain is fully aware of the situation, I believe I would like to try what is known as 'group sex'."

"Group sex is at least five people," said McCoy. They'd never be able to agree on the other two. Jim had--or at least he used to have a thing about not sleeping with the crew, and Spock would probably veto Christine. "I think what you want to try is a threesome."

Spock looked like he wanted to sigh. "Why is this the only subject for which you demand precise terminology?"

"Because a threesome's not an orgy." Maybe they could all agree on Scotty, but there was a good chance none of them was more appealing than a technical manual. (And why was he actually thinking about this?)

***

When McCoy got back to his quarters, he found Jim on his bed. "Ever hear of knocking?" he asked. "And where are your clothes?"

"They're around here somewhere," said Jim. "Spock wants to have a threeway, so I thought this would be much more efficient."

"Yes, I can see why the mere mention of that would make you think you should break into my quarters and take all your clothes off."

"Technically it's not breaking in."

"And it didn't occur to you to actually ask me if or when I would want to do something like this?"

Jim gave him his "how can you possibly resist me?" smile. It irritated the hell out of McCoy because, well, he probably couldn't. "Bones, either come over here or kick me out."

McCoy went over there.

After a few minutes the door buzzed. "At least somebody knows how to knock," McCoy said in Kirk's ear. He let whoever it was in--it was probably Spock, and if it wasn't...they could probably come up with something. Maybe some sort of alien virus that had made Jim force McCoy on top of him.

"Fascinating."

Well, that would cut down on at least some of the explaining.

"Is there a reason one of you is nude while the other is fully clothed?"

"Because Jim thinks it's socially acceptable to break into somebody's quarters and take all your clothes off," said McCoy.

"You do not seem to mind," said Spock.

"No, Bones, it doesn't seem like you mind at all."

"Jim, you need something to do with that mouth, I've got some suggestions." He kissed Jim and waited for Spock to join in.

"Spock?"

"What the hell are you waiting for?"

They both turned to look at Spock. He was still just standing there with his hands behind his back. They could've been on the bridge if not for the fact that McCoy was hard as a rock, horny as hell, and straddling the captain.

"I am observing," said Spock.

"You're...observing," said Jim.

"Yes, I believe that is considered an acceptable activity. If you prefer, I could attempt to hide in some part of the room and watch unobserved."

"You been letting him into your porn stash, Jim?"

"No, I do not prefer, Spock." Jim sat up, leaning on his forearms. "I prefer that you come over here."

"I will take that under consideration, Jim."

McCoy kissed Jim's neck to hide the fact that he was trying to keep from laughing. "Poor Jim."

"Poor Jim. Bones, see what you can do about this."

"Spock, get your ass over here." He wasn't surprised that that didn't work. He looked over Jim at Spock. Spock raised an eyebrow. McCoy raised one back. "Spock."

"Yes, doctor?"

McCoy kept his eyes on Spock as he lightly bit Jim's thumb. "Spock, I'm pretty sure I told you to get over here."

"More wasted energy, doctor?"

McCoy held his gaze as the Vulcan walked around the bed. He bit Jim's thumb again, slowly dragging his teeth over the tip. "Think you'd have to ask Jim about that."

"I wouldn't say wasted," said Jim.

McCoy rolled onto his back and looked up at Spock. "Besides, it might be too rough for those sensitive Vulcan fingers."

"Gentlemen," Jim reached over and started to undo McCoy's pants, "under any other circumstances I would admire your restraint. As it is, I'm having a hard time telling which one of you is the Vulcan."

"I would think it would be quite obvious," said Spock.

"Nice try, Jim." McCoy put his hands behind his head and lifted his hips so Jim could get his pants off. "You figured out something better to do with that mouth yet?"

"I believe I have a suggestion," said Spock.

"I'm starting to wonder if this was a bad idea," said Jim.

"Jim." Spock looked him in the eyes and said, "It is illogical to expect Dr. McCoy's dick will suck itself."

"He's got you there, Jim," said McCoy, and Jim was too stunned to come up with an answer to that. McCoy held out one hand, palm out, and used the other to pull Spock down to him. Spock was noticeably warmer than Jim and his French kissing more passive. The way he rubbed their fingers together suggested he'd enjoyed observing more than he'd let on, and McCoy wouldn't have been particularly put out if Jim decided to do something else with his mouth.

And it seemed he had--"You always like this, Bones?" Jim whispered in his ear. McCoy moved his hand from the back of Spock's neck and, with some slightly maneuvering from both of them, put it around Jim. "Or is this just for me?"

"Ask Spock." McCoy ran his fingers through Jim's hair. He half-clenched both hands when Jim cupped him in his hand and squeezed.

"Jim, whatever you just did," said Spock.

"What? _This_?"

"I would appreciate it if you repeated the action."

"You don't mind, do you, Bones?" He squeezed and nibbled on McCoy's earlobe and asked, "How's that, Spock?"

"It does not seem to be working as well as it did initially," said Spock.

"Speak for yourself," said McCoy.

"What about this, Spock?" Jim wrapped his hand around McCoy's dick and slowly stroked him.

"It is generating a quite interesting response."

"And don't you mean, 'How's that, Bones?'"

"Oh, no, Bones, I don't need to ask you," Jim sighed in his ear.

"Well, that's typical."

"Why should I ask you something I already know?"

McCoy slid his hand between them--the angle was god damned terrible, but at least Jim was better at improvising than Spock and didn't have to be told how to move. He kissed and stroked Jim and rubbed Spock's hand. Jim moaned in his mouth and against his cheek, and Spock...

Well, Spock didn't have any constructive criticism for once, so that was probably about the same thing. The way he usually was, he'd be impossible to hear over Jim anyway.

"Give me your other hand, Spock." McCoy kissed it, slipped his tongue between two fingers, and then bit his thumb the way he'd done with Jim's. Spock moaned--quick and soft--and McCoy tried to think accepting thoughts. "You just tell me if it's too rough, darlin."

Jim snorted. "Really, Bones?"

"Shut up, Jim." He bit and sucked at Spock's knuckles. He was rougher with his teeth that he usually was, and Spock's hand trembled slightly.

"It's just not what I would have expected, Bones. Do I even want to know what he calls you?"

Spock shifted his hand. "Too rough?" asked McCoy.

"No, I have decided I would like you to suck my fingers, doctor."

"How many?"

"Three should be sufficient."

McCoy sucked his fingers until Spock pulled his hand away and reached across him to Jim. From the way Jim moaned and his hips bucked, Spock must've started with at least two.

He'd practically forgotten that he was still holding Spock's other hand. Spock moved so they were palm to palm again. McCoy pressed their fingertips together. He dragged his fingertips up and down over Spock's as much as he could with their hands together.

McCoy alternated between their lips, stopping every so often to catch his breath. Whenever McCoy kissed Spock, Jim kissed his neck or his cheek. He and Jim were both breathing heavily, and their technique was getting a bit uneven--Jim was mouthing him more than kissing him, but McCoy didn't care as long as Jim just kept going.

And then he realized that Jim was telling him and Spock just that--"More...please, just a little more"--and lord only knew what he'd been saying, and it was probably killing Spock not to make some smart ass remark about intelligent human discourse.

His eyes just happened to meet Spock's. The Vulcan was a little bit greener than usual, and his breathing was slightly ragged. "Spock, you know we don't care," McCoy said in his ear. On his other side he could hear Jim just saying "yes" with an occasional "oh, god" thrown in. "We really--shit, just listen to Jim. We just--Christ, Jim--we just want to get you off, darlin."

"Doctor, do you have any idea what you're saying right now?"

"No."

"Bones?"

"Not you. Don't you stop."

He felt Spock's hand tense and heard him sigh. Jim whimpered, and McCoy felt Spock move his other arm away.

"Just you and me, Jim boy." He kissed Jim--or at least tried to since Jim kept saying something to him. It didn't sound like anything important (or much like English), but at least Jim was remembering to call him by the right name.

They both came pretty close together. After a little while, Jim grinned at him and said, "See, Bones, what would I do without you?"

After they cleaned up, Jim lay down in the center of the bed. "Nobody's going anywhere."

"It's my damn bed," said McCoy.

"All the more reason to stay, Bones." Jim was awake just long enough to kiss them both lightly on the mouth and give Spock one of those two-fingered Vulcan kisses.

Spock reached over Jim and held out two fingers. "I have been considering a schedule."

McCoy pressed his fingers against Spock's. "A schedule?"

"To divide my time between you and the captain."

"Spock, just come over here when you want to. There's no need to be--"

"Logically--"

"Logically, Jim gets Mondays and Wednesdays; I get Tuesdays and Thursdays; and on Fridays we all screw?"

"Amazing, doctor. That arrangement is quite similar to what I was considering."

"Absolutely not," said McCoy. "Except maybe Fridays."

"Do you have an actual, rational objection or are you merely in the mood to spite me?"

"Both," said McCoy.

"Why are you two still talking?" asked Jim.

"I am attempting--"

"This pointy-eared Vulcan--"

"Never mind," said Jim. "Spock, Bones, go to sleep. You can fight in the morning."

"I would hardly call it fighting," said Spock.

"He acts like we're just going to start taking swings at each other," said McCoy.

"Then you can have a reasonable and mature debate--with name calling and personal insults--in the morning."

Since they were both up before Jim, McCoy and Spock continued their completely reasonable discussion in the shower. As a way of conserving water and using time more efficiently, of course.

"I just think it's stupid," said McCoy.

"Because it was my suggestion," said Spock.

"No, this time that's just a coincidence." He stepped in, pressing himself against Spock's back.

"Is this part of a human need for spontaneity?"

"Sort of." He kissed the back of Spock's neck and his shoulders. "Schedule means Jim and I have to know when you're with the other fellow."

"You're already fully aware of the situation. You personally have been aware of it since it began."

"Yeah, but I didn't have to know when you were with Jim instead of me."

"Jealousy. One of your more--"

"Don't give me that 'your primitive human emotions' shit, Spock. I've seen you jealous plenty of times." He started to stroke Spock, going a bit faster than he usually did at the beginning. "You know I've got to be here in case they call me in the middle of the night. So, just come over when you're in the mood, and, hell, bring Jim if you want. And if you've absolutely got to make sure Jim and me get equal time--down to the nanosecond, if I know you--well, you can leave me out of it." He moved his hand away.

"Sexual blackmail? Honestly, doctor, I am a Vulcan."

"I know. That's why this is where we switch places."

"Humans place a great deal of importance on fairness, even when it is highly illogical to do so," Spock said once he was behind him with his hand moving up and down over McCoy's dick.

"You like watching me and Jim last night, Spock?"

"I believe I am starting to understand the human fascination with pornography," said Spock. "But we were discussing--"

"We were. But now we're talking about something else."

"We have not come to a decision."

"And what were the odds of that happening?"

"The exact odds?"

"Just your estimate." McCoy leaned back, getting as close to Spock as he could, and wondered what it'd be like to get fucked by a Vulcan.

"The odds of us reaching agreement are so small as to be practically immeasurable."

"So we'll just do whatever Jim wants." He should probably have just left it at that and gotten back to trying to teach Spock how to talk dirty. "Practically immeasurable?"

"If you are going to suggest that it is illogical to pursue such an argument under those conditions--"

"I am."

"I can only say it is unfortunate you are unable to distinguish between the improbable and the impossible."

"But if you're going to fail to convince me--"

"Doctor, we have established that you are incapable of rational thought," said Spock. "The only reason to discuss anything with you is for the opportunity to observe your spectacularly illogical brain in action."

"The fact that I put up with you proves I've been thinking irrationally."

"Actually, doctor, I would take it as a sign that you are not a completely hopeless case. Perhaps in time you will eventually bring your medical practice up to 20th century standards."

"Spock?"

"Yes, doctor?" McCoy wasn't sure who'd taught him about talking low in your ear. Could've been either one of them, or Spock could've figured it out on his own.

"Shut up. Or tell me what you'd like to see me do to Jim."

"I am not entirely sure."

"You want to watch me fuck him?"

Spock seemed to actually be thinking about it, but at least he could work his hand and his brain at the same time. "Yes. I think I would find that most fascinating."

"How do you want me to fuck him?"

"Unless there is another way you haven't mentioned, I assume you would insert--"

"No, I mean _how_," said McCoy. Apparently talking dirty was harder than cheating at cards. "You want me to be rough with him?"

"It would not harm him?"

"It's not in my nature, remember? But I can be gentle with him if that's what you want."

McCoy wondered if he'd be able to get off before Spock answered him. "I would have to see both options before making a decision."

"Of course, Spock. I can just fuck Jim until you've figured it out."

And at least he'd taught Spock enough that the son of a bitch waited until they'd both gotten off and gotten out of the shower to say, "I do not believe that conserved water at all."

"An excuse, Spock."

Spock nodded--probably filing that one away for later. "It is strange, doctor," he said as they both took clothes from McCoy's dresser. "I find the thought of you and the captain quite fascinating, and yet..."

"Sometimes that 'and yet' is what makes it so fascinating," said McCoy. "But if you really don't want that, I've led a full and complete life without fucking James Kirk."

"Bones, you know that's scientifically impossible."

"Morning, Jim. How long have you been listening?"

"Long enough to know what Mr. Spock currently finds quite fascinating."

"Shame I've got to go then," said McCoy. "They'll think I've died if I'm not there early."

Jim gave him the "how can you resist me?" grin. McCoy just smiled back and said, "Now, Jim, I'm pretty sure we've got a starship to run. Spock, no matter what Jim tells you, you don't have sex in somebody's bed when they're not there."

"It's still over an hour until the shift starts," said Jim. He cranked up the "how can you resist me?" look so it was more of a statement that a question.

Given the number of possible universes, there had to be a least a few where Jim Kirk did not talk McCoy and Spock back into bed without having to do very much talking. McCoy felt sorry for the poor bastards in those universes, especially the ones where it wasn't like all he had to do was give Spock a look and know that they were going to give Jim a very interesting hour (possibly without even taking their own clothes off).


End file.
